The moon was right where it always was: nestled between the two mountains as it cascaded down as a waterfall right into the river below.

The river which was the lifeblood of his people. Without the moon and its light and its magic river, they were nothing.

And mesmerized by this glorious sight, he suddenly began wondering. Where does the moon get its power from? What is the…- no, no! He looked away and drew the curtains, shutting off the glow.

His heart thudded loudly in his chest and his breathe became shortened.

What had he almost done? He must not think this. Not at all!

Memories of stories came back to him now. Told in whispers in the shadows. Horrific tales of how fiercely such matters were dealt with.

These kinds of thoughts were not tolerated and they always found out. That was their sole job, to protect the lifeblood of this people. At all costs. With their lives if necessary and anyone else’s when required. And they were good at it.

Too good.

He closed his eyes and sank to his knees, leaning against the wall for support. There was a sudden metallic taste in his mouth – there was no place to hide.

Sometimes, you’re hit in the head with a door in the dark. And then, you should close that door and stay there. Other times, you should get hit in the head with a door in the dark and try a memory reset.